Of Pirates and Pinafores
by CutlassKat
Summary: Fic about Laurel Brinkley, an upper class beauty who is bored with life and a younger Jack Sparrow. Pre-movie. Much slappage, much sexual tension. Involves shirtless pirates and snogging on the sea. Muahahaha!
1. Runaway Bride

A/N: Enjoy. Haven't done one in a while, but of course PotC inspired me. Along with Kay! Lol. Review and let me know if I should waste more time.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. So if you sue me it'll really just be annoying since court starts early and I don't.  
  
"Step one, two, three. Back one, two, three. Perfect Laurel!" a voice like nails on a chalkboard rained down on my ears. I rolled my eyes at Victor, my dancing partner. He snickered and mimicked under his breath, "Perfect Laurel! You're so perfect! Let me drop rose petals wherever you step to show my adoration for your perfection!"  
I punched him discreetly in the back with my fist and separated when the bland music slowed down. Ms. Slant smiled and clapped her hands before briskly walking to the middle of the marble floor, the six other boys and girls gathering around. "Good job, class. Before I let you leave as I see your carriages are waiting I must inform you of something. As saddened as I am to say this, I must. I am to leave for England to take up a job as a governess and will not be able to teach you anymore. Your parents have been notified and assured that each young lady and gentleman in here can now dance beautifully."  
Victor's mischievous green eyes widened and we grinned at each other in hidden jubilation before the maniac of a teacher let us walk out into the fresh summer air. My carriage was waiting at the end of the row; the gleaming brown horses looking irritated to be out in such heat. I commiserated with the beasts, as my own tightly fitted dress held so many yards of heavy fabric I felt as though I would faint.  
Turning to my friend I curtseyed good-bye and muttered, "Thanks for not stepping on my feet today."  
He looked indignant and placed a hand on my shoulder, leaning close, "It was no problem. Laurel. you know, I've told you this before. and I really don't want to seem forward. but we've been close for so long and don't you think we could be."  
I cut him off gently, "Victor, I'm sorry, you know we aren't more than friends."  
His sweet smile faded and he nodded before flashing me a real grin, "Good-bye my lady"  
I waved good-bye and let the footman help me into the crimson interior. While inside I pondered what I had just told Victor. He was such a nice boy, a sought after one for sure. When we had been little he was a gawking awkward boy with knock knees and gaping teeth. Soon though he had grown into a tall, green-eyed, devastatingly handsome man of nineteen who was routinely followed down the street by giggling young women. But while his smile was perfect and his humor like my own he remained the little boy I had known.  
Feeling confused, I glanced into the oval mirror in front of me and grimaced. Laurel Elisa Brinkley stared back at me, her dark brown curls framing a gently curved chin housed on a well-structured face with a "classic" nose, big blue eyes, long black eyelashes and naturally high cheekbones flushed pink. I was told by my parents, by my relations, by everyone that I was beautiful. I wouldn't deny it. But what my mother and father gave me physically upset me. I was locked up in a gilded cage because they were afraid if they let such a colorful bird fly away it would get lost forever.  
Just as I was thinking these thoughts the carriage stopped in front of our mansion on top of a large hill overlooking the port. Our town of Lark Haven was on Lark Island in the Caribbean, an English settlement my father Hugh Brinkley was sent over to be governor to when I was but three years into life. Ever since I've lived in the same house with the same people for the sixteen years I've resided on the stretch of island paradise.  
"Darling!"  
Dust swirled as the large door stood ajar with my mother standing in it, "Hello mother."  
She had a smile on. A smile that showed all of her teeth in contrast with her porcelain English skin she so cherished. Knowing my mother all too well I approached warily, at the same time wishing I could run inside where it would be somewhat cooler.  
"Laurel dear, now I know you must be perfectly exhausted from your lessons, but do come in. Your father and I must speak with you immediately. And I've had Pamela make us some lunch."  
Me being the fool that I was, I followed, knowing that it must not be good, but not wishing to face my mother's stubborn wrath when faced with refusal.  
I was right.  
"You want me to do WHAT??" I screamed in a very unladylike manner. The crystal chandelier shook above me and the rich oak table shuddered at my shout.  
My father looked at me with sympathetic eyes, eyes that he passed on to me. I wished for brown ones. "Laurel, Victor Egrets is a wonderful young man. You're practically twenty, and unmarried. I thought you would be happy with this match. He was supposed to propose today."  
I thought back to when he attempted to speak to me. And I thought it was just another proposal for a petty beau! How daft I had been! Hadn't I noticed the strange spark in his eye?  
Suddenly I felt claustrophobic, trapped in my own body. I looked at my mother who looked ridiculously and primly hopeful and my father who was silently apologetic. I looked at myself in the wall to wall mirror, my life flashing before my eyes and ending up here, me sitting in a blue expensive dress that I couldn't breathe in being made to marry my best friend. Practically like my brother.  
I had to get out.  
Standing up very calmly I nodded to both my mother and father, "Thank you for your attempt to marry me. I will consider. But now I must leave."  
With that I walked calmly out of the room. As soon as I heard them get up in confusion, I sprinted as fast as I could out the front door. The yellow Caribbean sun beat down upon me as I gathered my skirts in the crook of one elbow and skidded down the long dirt carriage way. I felt my loose curls come undone from their bun atop my head and tumble down, bouncing at the middle of my back. Dust kicked up into my face and coated the pretty blue dress that I so hated. Glancing back I realized I had run so far that I was near a back cove and no one was in sight. Slowing down I looked out and spotted a dock with a few Navy ships but no guards on it.  
The rough wood poked into the parts of my delicate slippers I had torn as I walked down the long dock to the end. Sitting down and kicking off the white slippers into the water I watched them sink down into the blue abyss. What would I do now? I'd run away, but now I was stuck. There was nowhere to go.  
Almost simultaneous with that thought came a whisper behind a stack of barrels, "Ay, miss"  
I glanced around quickly, heart pounding. Standing up, I ignored the immediate acquisition of a splinter in my toe and said loudly, "Who's there?"  
There was no answer. I cautiously crept around the barrel stack when all of a sudden a large hand clapped over my mouth and another around my waist. Screaming as loudly as I could, I attempted to kick whoever had seized me. But the tight hold on my mouth proved my voice soundless and the individual was strong. Not to mention my dress prevented much more movement.  
As soon as I stopped struggling as much a round and warm voice spoke beside my ear, "Sorry love, didn't mean to do that, but you see I'm a bit wary of having a lass yell when they see a pirate behind barrels. And I need yer help."  
At the word pirate my eyes got huge and I started to scream again. The unknown man spun me around, still holding fast to my face and waist. Suddenly I was staring at the handsomest man I had ever seen. His cheekbones were high, with tan and slightly weathered skin. His eyes were a deep brown, so deep they were like peat bogs that I had heard of, sucking you in. His lips were nice and firm, surrounded by a black mustache leading to a goatee of sorts. His black dread locked hair was pulled back in a red bandana with beads hanging from different places.  
Sensing my shock he gently and slowly let go of my mouth, his own face unreadable. "Well aren't you a pretty little thing."  
I felt indignation rising, "And aren't you a forward little thing?"  
He grinned a lopsided grin, revealing a few gold teeth. He then looked regretful and reached behind him. I glanced, confused, at his hand. He leaned very close to me, so close that if I had so much as breathed we would have been lip locked. "Sorry, love, must do this."  
And then everything went black. 


	2. Lessons by the Scoundrel

The sound of water crashing against a wall woke me up, the world spinning above me. Sitting up quickly, I promptly banged my head against the low ceiling and dropped back down, the dull ache I had heightened now to another sharp pain. After a moment of recovering from the dizziness I attempted to go to a sitting position again, this time dipping my head.  
  
A shiver struck me as I looked at my surroundings. It was cold in here, much colder than any house on Lark Haven during the summer. But this was obviously no house. The rocking of my quarters gave it away that I was on a ship, and not a very nice one, either. The bed I was on had only a mattress stuffed with hay and a very dirty quilt with patchwork that might have been pretty if it hadn't faded into unrecognizable brown. There were barrels in every corner with bold black letters advertising its contents. I saw ones marked "Food" "Water" and "Gunpowder" in one corner and the same pattern in the next. While taking all of this rather frightening news in, another cold shiver hit me.  
  
"Blast! Why is it so cold in here? This dumb gown should at least keep me warm."  
  
I trailed off, because as I had reached to rub the clothed arms of my dress, I had touched bare skin. Screeching in absolute surprise I glanced down at my ruined garment. The sleeves had been neatly cut off to the top of the shoulder, exposing my entire arm, with only about a two-inch strip as a sleeve on either side. Glancing down I let out another gasp, as the long train that had once housed yards of fabric had been cut away, leaving the hem to fall just at the bottom of my feet all the way around. Though this was an improvement, the thought of a pirate touching me made me want to gag.  
  
That combined with the steady rocking of the boat made my wish come true. Leaning over the headboard of my rank bed I let the vomit spill out for almost an entire minute before collapsing again with a foul taste in my mouth and desperation in my heart.  
  
I wasn't alone long, though. As I stared at the dark damp ceiling I contemplated going out of this room to find the captain, or at least the pirate who had captured me. But I realized that out that door might be people or things I didn't want to deal with in my current state.  
  
While I was gingerly rubbing the sore spot on my head and weighing my options I heard the door creak ever so slightly.  
  
Turning on my side abruptly I felt my heart pounding so hard that I thought it would jump out the low cut neckline of my ruined clothes. A shaft of light came flooding in as a tall shadow entered and closed the door quickly and silently.  
  
Closing my eyes I prayed to God that He would keep me safe, but I barely had time to think the words before the same pirate that I had seen before knelt by my bedside.  
  
"Good evenin' love."  
The voice prompted me to open my eyes. What a handsome face he had even in the shadows! But I regained my control and narrowed my eyes. This man had taken me captive! He had put me in these unlivable quarters and expected me to appreciate it!  
  
"What have you taken me here for, pirate? I warn you, I won't let you have your way with me so easily!" My words were bolder than my emotions, actually, but he wouldn't know that.  
  
The scoundrel grinned that same lopsided grin and put his hands on either side of my shoulders, gripping me as if he would tip over any moment. I smelled rum on his breath, and though it didn't smell terrible, the thought of a drunken man being able to touch my bare skin almost brought on another bout of sickness.  
  
"No need to worry, love. I haven't brought ye here to hurt ye at all. Couldn't have a pretty little woman like ye running off and telling the Navy 'bout a docked pirate ship, now could I? And I needed yer help."  
  
I shrugged out of his grip and stared him in his dark peat boggy eyes, "What would you need my help with, pirate?"  
  
This time he looked irritated and his eyes darkened, "If yer going to be here on this ship ye'll be callin' me by my title. Captain Jack Sparrow."  
  
I assumed his look and retaliated, "I shall call you no such thing. I chose not to come aboard this ship, and therefore I choose not to call you anything but what you are. A thief and a murderer who gave himself a title so he could run a dirty boat."  
  
Captain Jack Sparrow's deep eyes were filled with an amusement now, an amusement that frustrated me even more. He looked me up and down, his eyes raking my form in a most ungentlemanly manner. I felt my cheeks heat up as he reached for my dark curls and wound one around a long finger.  
  
He looked at my face while still playing with a long curl. I could scarcely breathe, my heart which had been pounding so wildly was still in my chest. He grinned again and whispered, "Such forceful words for a lass who is dressed for show and not thought."  
  
I realized he was staring at my chest and I realized how ridiculous I must have looked with my cleavage practically there for the whole world to see. But his words stung me. With that I took advantage of his unbalanced crouch and pushed him with all my might. He fell backwards hard and landed a couple feet away near the door.  
  
"Probably deserved that." He muttered and got to his feet again, bending d own as he approached and sat down by me on the bed.  
  
"I'm sorry for my extremely rude behavior, love, but you don't strike as the type to talk much."  
I crossed my arms as a five year old would and focused on a food barrel while mumbling, "shows what you know."  
  
He was silent. I turned to him and suddenly asked, "When will you take me home?"  
  
He laid back on the bed lazily and let his eyes rove the ceiling, "Not soon, love. That's all I can tell ye."  
  
The thought didn't trouble me much, so I asked instead, "Where will you take me?"  
  
Captain Jack Sparrow searched my face, "For now ye'll have to be traveling with me and me crew and in a while I promise to take ye wherever you wish."  
  
That lessened my fear knowing that he promised he'd take me somewhere, meaning I'd be alive to go. My prospects were looking up. "So where am I? Who are you? For that matter, how old are you? Are you really a pirate?"  
  
My series of questions prompted him to sit up and face me once more, "Yer on the Black Pearl, my ship if you could not tell by me title that ye refuse to say. I am Captain Jack Sparrow, as we have pointed out before. My age is now about twenty-three, and yes I am a pirate."  
  
It was like I was a little girl again and I looked eagerly back at him, "Have you ever found any treasure?"  
  
Sparrow shook his head, "Not yet, love. Right now we be searchin' for the Isla de Muerta. But we not be findin' that fer some time."  
  
My interest dwindled and I stood up carefully, "What am I supposed to do for now then?"  
  
Captain Sparrow approached me and stood very close, his body brushing mine. He let his hand wander to the back of my head, picking up a few locks of hair. My body tingled and I was faced with the crazy desire to press closer to him. He leaned down and whispered, "Yer to be me mistress."  
  
The shock raced through me and I stumbled backwards into a wall, "I.never! What do you.. I am not.. How dare.!" my jumbled words were stopped by Sparrow's hand on my back leading me to sit down on the bed.  
  
He chuckled a bit and tried to calm me, "Slow down, love. I don't mean literally. My crew hasn't had a pretty lady on board in a long time. If they think yer mine, they won't lay nary a finger on ye. All ye have to do is sleep in my quarters and hold my arm sometimes. Will that near kill ye?"  
  
Shaking my head dumbly my mind raced. A handsome pirate, a mangy pirate crew, and me pretending to sleep with said handsome pirate captain. It sounded as if it were a story that Pamela liked to hear about sometimes.  
  
He nodded and smiled and helped me stand up, "I have a few woman's clothes in me rooms if ye need somethin' nice to wear. Apologies for the dress, but we needed to mend a tarp, and that fabric is somethin' strong."  
  
Still in a daze, I let him open the door for me and was immediately struck by moonlight and hollers of the crew. At least a hundred men were running up and down the decks shadowed by huge black sails. I spotted one pirate carrying a large tarp with some light blue poking from one end. I shook my head unbelievingly and followed Captain Sparrow.  
  
The crew members we passed gave me a once over but nodded respectfully to their captain who lead me down a wide hall way that branched into a smaller one and housed a large polished wood door with a gleaming brass handle. He pushed it open and revealed a richly furnished room. The large deliciously decorated bed was in the corner, allowing for a bureau on one wall, a large mirror on the other and a small door leading to the captain's lavatory on the other. A beautiful oriental rug covered the middle and a brass chandelier swayed gently above.  
  
Jack Sparrow called over his shoulder, "I have a nightgown for ye in the bottom drawer. Hope it's to yer liking."  
  
I nodded absentmindedly and walked barefoot to the bureau, opening the drawer he told me to. Inside were a couple nice dresses, silk if I was correct, and a nightgown. Pulling it out I gasped. It was of a fine quality to be sure, but nothing suited for a girl of my age. The cloth was satin to the touch, but low cut and trimmed with delicate lace. The sleeves were almost no better than my ruined ones, barely covering the shoulder.  
  
Grimacing at the indignity of it all I hurried out of my dress and into the nightgown, hoping Sparrow wouldn't come out while I was mid-change. He opened the lavatory door dressed in brown cloth breeches and a clean white shirt just as the hem finished dropping on my own nightclothes.  
  
He came over and looked me up and down again, "I see it fits you well."  
  
Taking in my offended expression he assured me, "No need to fret, love, I shall not lay a hand on you while we slumber, savvy?"  
  
Warily I nodded and climbed under the thick covers of the bed, scooting over as far as I could. Captain Jack followed my lead and left a six inch gap between our bodies. "G'night love," he said sleepily before dozing off.  
  
But sleep would not come so easily to me. I lay on my back staring at the much higher ceiling and letting the dim chandelier candles burn out so I was left in utter darkness. The silence was penetrating, the only sounds being the waves against the ship and Sparrow's breathing.  
  
I let my head sink back into the pillow and closed my eyes, praying for dreams to come. Just when I was about to slip into sleep, I felt a long arm pass around me.  
  
Immediately my eyes shot open and knew who it was. Listening to the steady breathing of the captain I knew he was still asleep and decided not to disturb him, as long as he didn't touch me inappropriately. Sleep came swiftly after that, and I fell into a dreamless slumber. 


	3. Uncomfortable Beginnings

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I've gotten two so far, and one hasn't showed up on the actual board, but oh well.  
  
Disclaimer: I have no rights to anything yadda yadda yadda blah blah don't sue me etc etc etc  
  
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I was floating on a warm cloud of comfort when I opened my eyes sleepily to the sound of crashing waves. Looking around I saw that my unusual comfortable warmth was due to the fact that I was face to face with Captain Sparrow, his arm around my waist and his dark eyes smiling at me most roguishly.  
  
Skidding out of the bed quickly I backed up against one of the walls, infuriated. How dare he break his promise! And showing no gentlemanly decency of even attempting to rectify the situation when I woke up.  
  
"How dare you! You swore! You scoundrel, you rogue! Have you no respect for a lady's civility?"  
  
The impish man swung out of bed and sauntered towards me, his tousled dreadlocks matching his dark eyes. "Now, love. You never gave me the chance to apologize for my nighttime gaffes now did you?"  
  
I crossed my arms protectively over my chest, covering up what the nightgown did not. "So go on then."  
  
He looked confused for a moment. I glared more intensely and added, "Go on! You said you were going to apologize now go on!"  
  
Sparrow spread his arms innocently and picked up an apple from a basket on the bureau, tossing it expertly into the air and taking a bite, "No, love, I said you never gave me the chance to."  
  
Widening my eyes in vehemence I walked right up to him, stared him point blank in the eyes and growled, "I hope you choke."  
  
Snatching the dress laid out for me on a gilded chair I disappeared into the lavatory. Inside it was small, with only a free standing tub, porcelain chamber pot and a dressing table laid out with a silver comb for me, I presumed. Struggling to dress in the cramped accommodations resulted in the banging of my knees and arms several times. But finally I had gotten the fashionable lemon silk on and was relieved to find that it fit. The question then crossed my mind as to how Jack Sparrow had attained all these fine lady's garments. Obviously he had not been wanting for company in the past. Wrinkling my nose in disgust I stood at the dressing table and looked in the mirror.  
  
My once smooth dark brown curls were tangled and a waist-length mess. I took up the silver comb and attempted to smooth them out, pulling at several knots in one stroke. After at least twenty minutes they were back to normal, if not begging to be put up in this hot weather. For now I would have to deal with them down.  
  
It was true that I would have to go out there sometime, but the thought of facing Jack Sparrow again made me contemplate the possibility of taking up lodging in the bathtub. The man was wicked in all ways. He was a pirate, unmannered, uncivil and indecent. Overwhelmingly handsome, yes. And as hard as it was, his devious charms got to me in a way that Victor Egret's and many other well-bred boy's charms hadn't. I doubted he could waltz with perfection, and I knew he wouldn't send me roses of apology if he accidentally stole a touch of the hand but something nagged at the back of my mind.  
  
Something I would ignore for as long as this voyage continued.  
  
Stepping out of the lavatory I looked around. Sparrow was nowhere to be seen. His nightclothes were folded neatly atop the dresser, as were mine. I noticed a note accompanying them. Slipping into a pair of black patent leather shoes that were by the door, I picked up the note and read it.  
  
Dearest,  
  
Last night was wonderful. Meet me in the captain's dining quarters as soon as you are done dressing.  
  
Love, Jack  
  
"That man is impossible," I muttered after crumpling up and throwing the obvious fake love note. But nevertheless I stomped out into the sunlight, attempting to put on a happy face as the pirates who were on deck smiled to each other and gave me unsubtle looks. I blushed furiously and cursed the low-cut neckline, wishing for a high-necked dress.  
  
Swallowing my pride I went up to the nicest looking of them and asked him sweetly, "Excuse me sir, but where are the captain's dining quarters?"  
  
He grinned at me rather perversely and replied, "Ay, miss, go down the stairs right there and go past the mess hall. You'll recognize it."  
  
Quickly thanking him, I hurried down the creaky stairs as quickly as I could in the long gown. I had only a few feet to go past the putrid mess hall before reaching another grand door looking out of place on such a ship.  
  
Knocking hesitantly, the door swung open, Sparrow standing there back in the clothes I had met him in. Looking uncharacteristically happy he leaned down and planted a kiss on my lips.  
  
My heart stopped as his hand supported my back during the brief lip lock. In one swift movement he swung me inside and closed the door. It was then he released his sizzling hold on my lips and grinned that puckish grin of his.  
  
It took a moment for my breath to return as I slid noiselessly into a chair. He sat across form me, "Sorry love, didn't want you yelling at me like you do and having someone see you like that. Seem a bit odd, wouldn't it?"  
  
I didn't have the energy to argue. Instead I nodded, still dumbfounded. Suddenly, Sparrow got up form his seat, "Stand up, love. I'd like to see you in that dress."  
  
The dazzling feeling that had overcome me evaporated back into logic. Feeling a bit put out I stood up and shot, "I'll not be a doll for you to dress up. Remember our arrangement! None of it includes you using me as a plaything."  
  
He let his eyes wander over me, almost as if he hadn't heard, "Looks much better on you than it did on that mannequin in the store. Good thing, too. Only took it just last week," he approached and circled me while nodding approvingly and stopping in front of me, "the color brings out your eyes, love. Makes them like the Caribbean at noon."  
  
I sat down quickly, feeling more self-conscious than I ever had when someone had addressed my appearance. Attempting to change the subject I asked, "Why did you ask me here?"  
  
Jack sat down across from me again and looked disinterested, "Because, love, I never did find out your name."  
  
Brushing over my memory of the past day I realized he was right. Did I want to tell him, though? "Pamela.Wiltshire," I lied easily, averting my eyes to the table before glancing at him.  
  
The expression on his face was one of amusement again, "Right Pamela. And my name is Commodore Upright Law Abider. Now come on then lass, I can't do nary with a name but have something to call you by."  
  
Giving in I avoided his face as I muttered, "Laurel Brinkley."  
  
Sparrow looked thoughtful and studied the ceiling while tipping back in his chair, "Laurel Brinkley. Much nicer than Pamela, I must say. And do you have an age as well? Or am I not worthy to know it?"  
  
"I'm nineteen, to be twenty in a month's time if you must know."  
  
Kicking back his chair, he got up and crossed to the door, "Right then Laurel, and off you go. I've got work to attend to and can't have your pretty face to contend with right now."  
  
The things he said! Instead of arguing I got up quickly and while storming out of the room I stomped very hard on his booted toe. The yelp of surprise was all I needed. 


	4. Crossing Blades with Confusion

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! Notice my friends feel compelled to give constructive criticism! Lol. That's a good thing. Just remember character development is a slow angst-ridden process.  
  
Disclaimer: You already knew what I was going to say before you read it, you know. If you didn't, here's a reminder: I own nothing and no one. Happy now? Joy-suckers.  
  
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My day was boring. I had wandered around the lower cabins for hours on end, and had only found storage compartments. Most of the ship was full of cargo, much of it canons and weaponry.  
  
"Well they are pirates," I thought blandly, wandering down another narrow shaft. The cool air of the belly of the ship smelled terrible, but at the same time was infinitely better than the stifling humidity of Lark Haven's summer breezes.  
  
I started to think about home, then. About how Mother and Father were taking the news that their eldest daughter had disappeared. I started to play scenes where Mother was crying and Father was shaking his head, saying "why? If we had only let her do what she wanted!"  
  
So involved was I with daydreaming about my parent's regrets that I almost ran into a doorway at the end of the tiny hall. The door was nondescript, cracked and weathered wood that matched the rest of the vessel's. But there was nothing to lose. At worst I'd find the jail cell, and I knew for certain no one was in there. Pirates rarely took prisoners. Except for me of course, but at the time I fancied myself a passenger.  
  
The door creaked open on rusty hinges and to my surprise I saw that the inside of the room was fairly well lit with covered candles hanging on the walls. But that wasn't what warranted a gasp from me. Instead it was the hundreds of sheathed swords hanging on the wall, each of their handles gleaming.  
  
When I had been a little girl and played pirates with friends, we had used sticks for swords, jumping around the beach and diving off crude rafts. So I was immediately fascinated with the chance to hold a real sword.  
  
Approaching the wall in back carefully I gingerly picked up one of them off a hook and in one motion I unsheathed it. The silver blade caught the candlelight and sparkled in the yellow glow as I held it as level as I could; Jesus the thing was heavy! I closed my eyes and imagined I was a pirate, ready to fight to the death for a last bit of treasure. Getting ready, I picked up the blade, and gripped it with both hands. Then using every bit of strength I had I swung it with all my might.... and landed on my bottom, sprawled on the ground.  
  
"Getting yer practice in, love?"  
  
Cursing under my breath I realized I had forgotten to close the door. Standing up with as much grace as I could muster I scowled at the infuriating pirate, "It is entirely rude of you to enter a room that I am in without informing me first. I wouldn't expect you to know that, though."  
  
He sauntered over, ignoring my words, and picked up a sword off the wall, unsheathing it and holding the blade level to my nose, "Care to cross blades?"  
  
Fear gripped my heart; surely he wouldn't dare point a weapon at a lady! Gulping and regaining my pride, I resolved that he was merely testing me. I picked up my blade and got my balance with the heavy object. He looked so contented I could have stabbed him then and there, but instead I stared him straight in the eye and said, "Ready?"  
  
Sparrow leaned back in mock surprise, "Love, a pirate is always ready" and with that he lunged, blade flashing. I swung up my own sword clumsily, barely blocking the blow. It was then I realized he really was fighting and I became frantic. Throwing my blade wherever I could I hit the wall more than him. In the next instant I felt something in the back of my dress tear. Stopping in surprise, I saw Sparrow looking amused and realized that he had sliced the back of my dress from waist to collar, leaving the bodice loose and my back exposed.  
  
"Now I suggest you surrender, love."  
  
I felt tears of rage well up in my eyes and lost my temper once and for all, "what do you take me for? A puppet? Some girl you can get a rise out of and use for a laugh? Well I'll tell you something you dirty pirate, I'm not! Just because I can't sail or handle a sword or fight doesn't mean I'm not worth anything! Just because I'm 'beautiful' doesn't mean I can't think for myself! And I'll tell you what I think now you disgusting man, I think that you're just like every other man I've met, pirate or Naval officer! You see naught but a girl's body! Well forget that notion, Jack Sparrow! I'd die before letting you see any part of me!"  
  
With that I stormed out on him for the second time in a day, this time hot tears running down my cheeks as I entered his cabin and slammed the door, locking it quickly, the torn back of my dress flapping ridiculously behind me. My reflection in the mirror showed a different girl than I was used to. Her complexion was blotchy, her eyes were swollen and red, her hair was tangled and limp from sword-fighting. I was ugly, and I was happy.  
  
Throwing myself back on the plush bed I realized that this bizarre pirate whom I had know a little more than a day had pushed me farther than anyone I had ever known. In fact, I could scarcely remember the last time I cried. My sobs, though, wouldn't stop. I had realized that I really couldn't do anything special. Sure, I could ballroom dance and play the harp, but I couldn't do anything useful. That thought hit me like a lead balloon. I really was like an ornament, with no other purpose but to sit and look pretty.  
  
"Love?"  
  
The door swung open and Jack Sparrow's voice was softer than it had ever been. I yelled back childishly through the pillow, "How did you get in? And I am not your love!"  
  
I could feel him sit down beside me on the mattress as he answered, "I have a spare key, love. It is my room."  
  
His hand touched my bare back tentatively. I didn't move, so he started rubbing it gently, his calloused fingers grazing my skin and sending little fires through me. After a moment of silence he stopped and leaned closer, "look at me, love."  
  
I looked over, and his face was different than I had ever seen it. Instead of smug, or inebriated, or annoyed, those dark eyes were tender. A shock ran through me to the ends of my toes.  
  
"Yer not useless, Laurel. I've known you nary a day and you've proven to be more than a pretty doll."  
  
His voice hypnotized me, and I nodded. Searching my face, he reached out a hand for me, leaning over and running his fingers through my matted hair. My heart was squeezed with anticipation as the air became charged with something I'd never known. His palm cupped my chin as he leaned down, our lips drawn to each other like magnets.  
  
When his mouth was but an inch away he breathed, "Love, ye won't lock me out of my room again now will ye?"  
  
My eyes opened wide and I quickly came to my senses. Out of his room! He had insulted me! Made a fool out of me! Captured me! Those lips couldn't touch mine, no matter how much my heart longed for it.  
  
Scared beyond reason, I pushed the surprised Jack Sparrow off of me and ran into the lavatory, locking the door behind me. Sitting on the edge of the tub I put my face in my hands.  
  
What was I going to do now? 


	5. Miguel de Papua's Secret Crossing

A/N: Ah, you lovely reviewers you. I send you all baskets of cookies. HAHAHAHAHA! GET IT? A cookie like the pastry and a cookie like the thing on the inter...net..... OK dumb joke.  
  
Disclaimer: (insert standard disclaimer here)  
  
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I was left alone with myself for all of five minutes, but all the while I was waiting for a knock on the door. When it finally came, along with a half-hearted wiggle of the doorknob I had to hold myself back from opening it right then, "Please leave me be."  
  
There was silence, and then I heard him say very quietly, "Whatever you want, love."  
  
Jack's footsteps away from the door drove me over the edge. Leaping from my unsteady perch I threw open the door, aware of how disheveled I must have looked. He stopped, only being about five feet away, and looked at me in surprise. Mustering up what was left of my courage I took a deep breath and asked slowly, "Why am I here?"  
  
A familiarly satisfied look entered his face and he answered back, "What are any of us here, love?"  
  
Feeling my anger start to return I stared, shooting mental darts at him until he sobered and recognized my actual question. The smugness evaporated and he sighed, sitting down on an armchair in a corner. I approached him cautiously, waiting for an answer.  
  
"Do ye remember when I asked for yer help?" he asked almost tiredly.  
  
I nodded, urging him to go on. "I never told ye what I needed yer help with, did I?"  
  
Still confused, and not wanting to get him off track, I shook my head no. He sighed quietly and took a slow drink of air before starting, "Well, I told ye that I took ye on board because I couldn't have ye telling any officers about my ship bein' at their port. Which is partly true. But Laurel," he got up after saying my name, crossing to where I was and taking my reluctant hand in his, "Yer father is Hugh Brinkley, savvy?"  
  
I had to speak, "Yes, he is. But what of that? Pirates care not for government officials, except for ransom. And you didn't attempt a ransom with me at all."  
  
Sparrow released my hand, rubbing his temple; "Ye crossed from England with yer father when ye were but a child, right?"  
  
I nodded, wanting to point out he wasn't much more of an adult then than I was, either. But he started again before I had the chance, "This is all hard to explain, love, understand. My crew and myself have been searching for the Isla De Muerta for over two years now, but there's a catch. The dreaded Isla De Muerta is an island said to hold the treasure of Cortez. But it can only be found by those who know where it is. So that leaves my jolly roger out of the pickins, doesn't it?"  
  
"This isn't helping, Sparrow. What do I, or my father for that matter, have to do with a lost island, or treasure?"  
  
He looked pleased that I asked that and jumped back in with more vigor, "Right, love. You've gotten me to my point. On that crossing from England your family took the captain of that ship was named Miguel de Papua, correct?"  
  
Thinking back as hard as I could, I vaguely remembered Father speaking about the great Captain Papua, and how he was the only merchant sailor he trusted. I nodded in confirmation, urging him on.  
  
"I knew it. Captain Miguel de Papua was the descendent of Cortez, and the secret of the Isla de Muerta was passed down his family to keep the treasure safe. But poor old Papua died shortly after your crossing, and not without reason. You were too young at the time to know this, and I only realized it later after hearing tales, that the one passenger crossing he made was quite out of the way for a Spanish merchant vessel, sailing all the way from England to the Caribbean with no cargo but a family. It wasn't long before I realized why. Miguel de Papua brought your family to the Isla de Muerta at one time, didn't he?"  
  
I had been listening with an ever-increasing confusion since Sparrow had started talking. But at that I shook my head, "No..... No, he couldn't have. We would have noticed an island with treasure on it, I'm sure."  
  
It was Jack's turn to cut in, "Not necessarily, love. The Isla de Muerta is not an island unlike others. It may have looked the same as all other islands. So did you stop at any island?"  
  
Right then it hit me. A rush of memories came flooding back, memories I hadn't even known I had in my head. Lush green foliage, beautiful blue rock. A dark-skinned man with kind eyes telling Father that he merely had to drop off some trade items at the storage cell kept on this island.  
  
Taken aback by my sudden memories I exclaimed, "How could I remember that? I was only three years old! I barely remember England! It's not possible!"  
  
Jack's eyes got excited as he raised his arms to the heavens, "That's it, love! It doesn't matter what age you are! If you are taken to the Isla de Muerta then its location stays in your mind forever!"  
  
It was impossible! But I looked at him, and couldn't fathom how he could create such a fantastical story. When the reality of it set in, I was even more scared than before, "How did you know it was me on the dock? How were you going to find me or my family?"  
  
A very sly look came into the pirate captain's eyes, and he trailed a thumb along my chin, "Laurel Elisa Brinkley's beauty is famed throughout the Caribbean. Can't go a place without hearing your name from well-to-do families on the streets, hoping to marry off their sons to your prosperous self. I already knew where your voyage sixteen years ago dropped you off at, and as soon as I saw your beautiful self running down the dock I felt blessed. I wouldn't have to go wreak havoc by attempting negotiations with your father, or possibly taking you when you weren't looking to run away." He ended with an audacious wink, proud of his fortunate.  
  
But I was not! I had been tricked! What I had thought was merely a fateful meeting would have inevitably taken place one way or another. The pirate looked so smug I felt like beating him senseless. So I was his compass, his astrolabe to find Spanish gold. All the wooing, the sweet words, the attention were merely to warrant my cooperation. My deception was past anger now.  
  
Putting on a sweet face I drew near to him, running a finger along his collarbone while staring warmly into his eyes, "Does your crew know about my purpose?"  
  
He grinned, softening and placing his hands on my waist, "Only my first mate, Barbossa. He'll tell naught a soul."  
  
Letting my grin grow to a smile I brought back my balled up hand discreetly and letting loose, allowed it to fly directly into Jack Sparrow' stomach while I half-yelled, "Well then you'll only have to explain to him why I jumped off this god-forsaken ship!"  
  
He doubled over in shock while I ran out the door, happy to find the deck that I was on deserted, with only the blowing breeze to keep me company. Leaning over the dark wood railing I stared into the dark blue depths of the churning water below me. The sun shone down on it, casting bright rays into my eyes and causing me to turn away for a moment before gulping with resignation.  
  
I had to do it. Or be used as a pawn before most likely being thrown to the sharks once I had fulfilled my purpose. The promise that Sparrow had given to me felt worthless, as I realized fully for the first time that he was a pirate and pirates rarely held their word.  
  
It was a final decision, one I had to make. Lifting up my skirts cautiously and kicking off my shoes, I swung one leg and then the other over the railing so I was in a sitting position, my skirts fluttering in the wind as the ocean spray reached my toes even from thirty feet up. My heart pounded with fear as I had never dealt well with heights. The seconds passed slowly, me edging off the slick wood only to push myself back.  
  
The wind was like a hand on my back, slowly pushing me off, and my mind countered, forcing me to weigh my options again and again. I started to cry again, and my balance was tested. Should I just go back over? The dizzying height struck me as I looked down, the water glistening a cold azure from the space dividing my doom and me. The space that was only air.  
  
On the count of three, I resolved to let go. I counted slowly......one.....two....three..... I let go and felt as though I had been grabbed while I was falling....falling.... my stomach went to my throat as I hit wood.  
  
Wood?  
  
"If you wanted to go swimming, love, you should have told me. I could have gotten you the right attire. As it were, what you are currently wearing is not."  
  
I opened my eyes and let my head regain its hold on things. Above me was Jack Sparrow, his shirt off and a blossoming purple bruise on his well- defined abdomen. Immediately my upbringing kicked in.  
  
"Sir! Cover up!" I shouted, jumping to my feet with my eyes tightly closed. The indecency almost made me choke! If my mother could have seen me now it would have been off to a convent with me!  
  
He chucked and pried my fingers off my eyes, revealing his topless self to my eyes. "No worries, love. There is no modesty aboard a pirate's ship. Although if that is why you were prepared to jump I suppose I could don a shirt, but the fabric sorely rubs this fine injury you've done me."  
  
While he was speaking, I was dumbfounded. I had seen boys without shirts on before, but none of my own age or older. His shoulders were wide and lead to defined upper and lower arms that curved nicely with muscles, but not too much. His chest was smooth and all of his skin was evenly tanned, as if he worked often without clothing on it. My eyes wandered down to the bruise I had caused. My untamed mind mourned for those abdominal muscles tainted by grey, as they were quite distinct.  
  
Unfortunately, Jack noticed my observations and grinned, "Then again, I see you have no more objections."  
  
That caused me to blush furiously and regain composure, "Captain Sparrow, I will be in my quarters."  
  
With that I walked away as regally as I could muster, mixed up inside. So many questions loomed in front of me, questions I couldn't ignore.  
  
I had to have them answered now.  
  
It was time to ask the only other man who supposedly knew why I was on the ship, First Mate Barbossa. 


	6. Innocent Conversation

A.N: Oh reviewers, you're making me blush Disclaimer: I'm a poor person and own nothing. So don't rub it in by suing me  
  
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I wandered to the only place that I knew, Jack Sparrow's quarters. My intent was to look for another door since theoretically the First Mate would be near the captain. As I suspected, about ten feet down the hall from his door was another one on the opposite side of the hall.  
  
A bad feeling started spreading in the pit of my stomach, clenching with fear. Shaking it off, I knocked hesitantly on the door; half hoping he wouldn't hear me. I had no such luck.  
  
The door opened, a shaft of yellow candlelight greeting me, along with a partly shadowed face. I stepped back a bit as a man stepped out, and I got a good look at him. He was tall, taller than the Captain, but handsome in a more refined, older way. His wavy brown hair was cropped above the neck and tied back, and his round face looked jolly, with his warm brown eyes smiling in welcome. Just the sight of him made me feel better, and for a moment I was without words.  
  
"Ay, miss. I believe the captain's quarters be that way."  
  
I shook myself out of my stupor and shook my head, remembering my manners, "First Mate Barbossa, yes?"  
  
The man nodded and waited for me to continue. "My name is Laurel Brinkley, I'm staying on the ship for a time, as I'm sure you know. Recently I've heard some news that you are privy to as well, and am seeking an explanation that I did not have adequately delivered."  
  
Barbossa laughed a bit, and I saw faint lines around his eyes and mouth. Obviously he was older than his captain. "Miss Brinkley, please come in, I have an idea about what you be speaking of."  
  
I followed his back into the room, which was as richly furnished as Sparrow's but with more of an English feel. The room actually reminded me of my mother's parlor, with a bed in one side of course. The sitting area held three chairs and a dark oak table, with an oil lamp sitting atop it unlit. Barbossa gestured to one of the chairs, which I sat in while he took one opposite me.  
  
"Miss Brinkley, what I take from your reason to come see me is that our Captain Jack told you about why you be on the Black Pearl and you aren't really pleased with it are you?"  
  
I shook my head, willing him to go on, wanting to know if Jack really was just using me. Barbossa sensed that and cleared his throat, "Well lass, you'll be content to know that Sparrow isn't usually this nice to his passengers. I doubt you'll be fed to the sharks when the time comes that we find that treasure. Sparrow is a leader with twists, some of those twists not suitable for a pirate's ship..."  
  
He stopped, seemingly lost in thought. I broke into his meditations abruptly, "So are you saying Captain Sparrow isn't just using me for the way to the Isla de Muerta?"  
  
A strange look came into Barbossa's eyes and he shook his head, "Sorry miss, but you may be something more to him, but for us we need you only as a compass. So do a favor for a poor First Mate and don't get to close to that one. His future isn't too bright."  
  
It was then the wooden door burst open and my heart caught in my throat as the still shirtless Sparrow swaggered in, smiling broadly at First Mate and "mistress." It then turned into a frown, "I see I've interrupted something."  
  
Barbossa stood up, the strange look still in his eyes, "Not at all Captain. I was just telling Laurel of her importance on this voyage."  
  
Sparrow stared at him with a new look, a look of command. Barbossa frowned and snapped, "I have things to be doing, it was a pleasure to meet you Miss Brinkley, but if you'll excuse me I have to request that I be alone now."  
  
Sparrow steered me out while a dead silence hung in the air, almost tangible. "You didn't need to bring him into that did you?"  
  
I gulped quietly and tried to shake hair into my eyes while playing with a ribbon on my dress. I had to know something, "Um... Barbossa said I was....um....more than a....well....a compass to you...." I paused and forced myself to look up, astounded at my audacity, "is that true?"  
  
A grin played at Sparrow's eyes and he put his rough sailor's hands on my waist, drawing me a bit closer as the breeze blew my hair out of my eyes, "Why Ms. Brinkley I didn't knew ye ever cared what Jack Sparrow thought of you."  
  
In that moment my upbringing flashed before me, an upbringing that frowned on open shirted pirates with long hair and flashing eyes, wandering hands and a weather beaten face.  
  
In that moment I didn't care. 


	7. Fire Below the Main Deck

Disclaimer: Yadda Yadda, I only daydream about Jack Sparrow, I do not own him.

The world stopped spinning for a moment when his lips met mine, and white stars covered my eyelids as they closed as if to keep me from falling.

I was vaguely aware of him drawing me closer, the heat from his body melding us together with our lips and bodies. His hands pressed on my back, his callused hands feeling warm and strong instead of rough.

The fire coursing through my veins left me breathless, and his breath tasted like the ocean and breeze. It was intoxicating, it was breathtaking, and it was…ending.

As he pulled away, his arms stayed around me and his eyes held a look I had not before seen, it transformed his deep chocolate eyes into a pool of warmth and I wanted to keep staring until I fell in.

"Laurel…" he whispered, his lips a hair away from mine, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

I caught my voice and shook out, "Yes?"

"Come with me."

He held my hand as he gently tugged me across the hall to his quarters while my heart was in my throat. He modestly turned away as I changed into my nightgown and climbed into bed.

A moment later I felt him get in as well. I rolled over to face him, and the fire in my blood rekindled. He put his arms around me and grinned his roguish grin, "Now Ms. Brinkley, don't be gettin' ideas."

I smiled back, "I believe that's what I'm supposed to say Captain Sparrow."


	8. They All Need a Compass

The sun greeted me along with a bed not occupied except for my own sprawling being. Shaking the sleep from my eyes I blinked and tried to recall the recent events.

But the recurring figure from those events was nowhere to be found. Sitting straight up and pulling the bedclothes around me, I felt my face grow hot at the circumstances in which I was at the moment. Brushing my tangled hair from my eyes I covered my face with my hands and screamed quite conspicuously into them, the flesh not blocking the sound.

In a moment Jack flew in the room eyes blazing, "What's going on? Who's there?"

Glancing up and scrambling to cover I stammered, "You…you shouldn't be in here!"

His shoulders relaxed and he put on the characteristic grin, "Love, this is my room," and started to move towards my in a way that last night would have made my swoon only made my fly backwards away from him.

"You shouldn't at least come near me, I'm not properly clothed," I couldn't look at him in the face and keep the polite yet urgent tone as he stopped in his tracks.

The captain's boots replied, "And this is now a problem is it?"

I nodded and mumbled an indistinct, "Yes, yes it is."

His tone dropped the confident swagger and a sea worn hand tipped my chin to meet those dark eyes, "Love, I've played your games and I won't play them anymore. I've treated you well, I've protected you and you've now distrusted me more than any woman I've ever met. That I do not deserve."

I was not able now to draw away from his magnetic peat bog eyes and answered quietly, "The Isla de Muerta is located due north of our location and straight on for three knots, there is a compass that if you possess it, it will point the way and it is on an island one knot out under a rock in the shape of a ship."

Captain Jack stared at me in wonder, "How do you know that, love?"

I shook my head in amazement and replied, "I don't know, it just came out."

He let out a great laugh and his eyes shone as he kissed me with dizzying intensity before running out the door calling behind him, "I'll be back; I must share this with Barbossa!"

I was then left to my own devices to think about what had happened, not to mention what was going to happen. Could I trust him? He had given me no reason not to, but for some reason the very belly of this ship seemed to be reeking of mistrust that chilled my bones at every word spoken to me of trust. What then was I to believe?

Wrapping a sheet around me I snuck out on the deck in the early sunlight where there were no sailors. Thanking the Lord for that I leaned up against the railing and felt the wind rush around me in freedom. In a moment of abandon I dropped the sheet and let the air wrap every inch of me as I felt as though I could have flown with no concern for human modesty.

"Love…you look right lovely in the morning light."

Shrieking I turned around and there was Jack, but instead of a roguish grin there was a tender and almost adoring look on his face as he beheld my unclothed and indecent body.

"You…I….I'm so sorry…" I gathered the sheet up around me.

"Perky are we?"

Blushing profusely I tried to pull at the bedclothes stuck on a splinter in the deck. I could hear him walking slowly up to me and gently pulled my hands away from the sheet and let it fall. Looking up his eyes held the same look as the night before and I melted against him as his hands touched my bare back.

"I think a dress might suit you a bit better love."

"I…think so as well."

"Then let's get you one."

My eyes and his never left each other, my lips burning for his (along with other parts) but never meeting. It was torture as he handed me a dark red dress with a scooped neck and loose long sleeves. As I dressed my mind came back to me.

"We shouldn't sleep in the same room."

His eyes darkened in confusion, "Do you not trust me?"

I hastily went over to him, looking pleadingly up into his eyes, "I do trust you. I do. I think. But it isn't proper for me to be in bed with a man to whom I am not wed. Not when it's not pretend anymore, I refuse."

He smiled and touched my lips with his thumb, "Laurel, I never wanted it to be pretend."

I took a step back to calm myself, "But I did, and I have to have it be."

Those eyes showed hurt but he stopped for a moment and stepped back, "Laurel I should not usually say no you understand love? But it truly is not safe otherwise. I'll control myself and lay nary a finger on ye if that's what you be wanting."

I looked at him and the inner struggle raged, "It is. It truly is."

He nodded and turned away, "I must be speaking with my first mate now, go down and have some breakfast it will do you good."

Once he left I sat down and thought and wept and thought some more. If I was running from an upbringing that was too controlling then why was I pushing away a chance to be rid of it?

Jack Sparrow filled me with feelings I could have never had for any boy on Lark Haven, much less my almost husband-to-be Victor. But he would never marry me and I could never marry him.

_You can't marry him, you can't have him. _I thought, trying to make myself come to terms with it.

My tears were the only ones who fully comprehended as they threw themselves from my eyes to the floor in absolute despair.


End file.
